Dirty Past

Dirty Past

by Emma Hart

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Overview

Dirty Past by Emma Hart

On the heels of Dirty Secret, here is a sizzling hot romance featuring another Burke brother and the girl he can’t resist, from the New York Times bestselling author of the Game series.

Walking out on my wedding wasn’t my best idea.

Neither was throwing my cell in the lake and taking a job as PA for Dirty B, America’s favorite rock band, complete with every teen girl’s dream man, the eldest of the Burke brothers.

Tate Burke is pure sex. Women actually throw their panties at him during shows. And Ella Dawson is the lucky little thing that gets to escort their fangirling butts out when he’s done with them.

Yay.

He’s a cocky son of a bitch, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. Every now and then Ella gets a rare glimpse of the Tate behind the “bad boy” act, and it attracts her in the most annoying way. The most annoying, heart-thumping, panty-wetting way.

When her abusive ex turns up at the hotel room Ella and Tate are sharing, raging mad, she knows she’ll need more than just a little protection. Tate sees red, and Ella can’t help but lean on him, despite his bad-boy ways.

And now? Now, he’s in a whole lot of trouble.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781501104770
Publisher: Pocket Star
Publication date: 05/04/2015
Series: Burke Brothers , #2
Sold by: SIMON & SCHUSTER
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 250
Sales rank: 19,196
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of many sexy new adult romance novels, including the Call and the Game series, among others. Her sizzling new novels featuring the irresistible Burke Brothers include Dirty Secret and Dirty Past. By day, she dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books. Learn more at EmmaHart.org and Facebook.com/EmmaHartBooks.

Read an Excerpt

Dirty Past



Ella

South Carolina is seriously lacking in skyscrapers.

The Deep South—right now, it’s all rolling green fields, cowboy boots, and barbecue. A million miles away from the bustling streets of Upper Manhattan that I’ve lived in my whole life. The numerous state parks, the lakes, the mountains—they’re all alien to me.

And they’re all, thankfully, so much more charming than endless summers in the Hamptons.

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel and glance at the clock on the dashboard. The Hamptons—the place I should be right now.

Preparing for my wedding in four days.

Yep. I’m that girl. The runaway bride, the jilter, the disappearing act.

I fully expect panic to be ensuing at my parents’ sprawling house as they wake and realize I’m no longer there. Knowing my mother, she’ll be having some kind of miniature breakdown, ensuring all eyes are on her, while my father paces and angrily shouts into the phone for someone to find me.

He’ll call all of the NYPD, demanding they pull their heads out of their asses and utilize every resource they have at their fingertips. My mother will continue to hyperventilate and be seen to by a flurry of people, namely the people whose family I was supposed to marry into.

And he—Matthew Hamilton, my darling betrothed, my perfect dream—my utter bastard of a fiancé. He’ll have his mask in place, every traumatized word falling from his lips a lie. His anger will be barely contained by the necessity for his pretense.

I shift in the seat and wince. My back is stiff from one break in nine hours of driving—through the night, no less.

No. I grit my teeth. The pain isn’t from driving, although it probably hasn’t helped. I won’t make excuses anymore. In around ten days, when the bruising has gone, I’ll no longer have anything to hide. I won’t have to spin endlessly in front of the mirror to see if my outfit covers every discolored blemish on my skin.

My phone lights up from its place on the passenger seat. Damn. I could swear I turned it over.

His name flashes on the screen, and I grit my teeth even harder. The call clicks over to voicemail. I quickly reach over and flip the phone so its screen-down. I don’t need the distraction of the calls.

I don’t need the fear that every message he leaves tells me he’s coming after me.

I don’t need the fear that he knows where I am.

So I keep driving. Just drive, drive, drive. Don’t look back.

I made the right choice. I know I did. I wasn’t born to be a punching bag. I won’t be the wife that cowers in the corner before her husband arrives home from work. I won’t be the woman afraid she left a speck of dust on the mantel or undercooked the potatoes just slightly.

I refuse to be afraid to breathe for fear it’d be too loud.

I tighten my hold on the steering wheel and make the turn into downtown Charleston. The saddest thing about this is I didn’t jab my finger randomly on a map and set my GPS to the destination. I planned this. I’ve known for three days I would be here, and that’s the only reason I was able to get through the last time Matthew was allowed to touch me.

The only thing that makes the bruises that cover my lower back and snake around to my stomach bearable is the fact he’ll never get to do it again.

The early-morning rush provides a welcome noise to silence the voice inside my mind. It’s not New York, but it’s enough. It’s comfort and safety in an unfamiliar place. Comfort and safety I’m glad for.

I follow the GPS’s directions to the Viscount Hotel on the Charleston seafront. I must be crazy—truly crazy.

Twelve hours ago I was a Harvard graduate preparing to enter a job at a prestigious New York law firm. I summered in the Hamptons, delighting my parents with my abilities to entertain others. I was about to get married to millionaire Matthew Hamilton, heir to Hamilton Enterprises, in the wedding of the summer.

Now I’m a Harvard graduate about to join the team of America’s favorite rock band as their personal assistant.

I might not be able to hide from my family or now-ex-fiancé, but I can keep running. Joining Dirty B. on the final leg of their countrywide tour is definitely the best way to do that, even if I did have to have “two hair appointments,” “a manicure,” “a pedicure,” and “two pre-wedding facials to ward off a spot break out” in the last three weeks to apply for, phone interview, and subsequently talk to their current assistant to get this job. It was almost worth the mini-beating for spending so much money on myself.

I pull into the Viscount’s parking lot and kill the engine. My eyes are burning with exhaustion, and the only thing I want to do right now is meet some girl named Sofie and go to my room to sleep for hours.

I pick up my phone and unlock it. There are over a hundred missed calls from my mother, father, Matthew, his parents, and his brother, accompanied by a ridiculous slew of text messages and voicemails.

After a moment’s hesitation, I open one of the messages from Matthew.

Ella where the fuck are you? If you have any sense, you’ll come home. Now.

That’ll be a negative on the coming home. My fingers twitch with the urge to respond. I can just imagine it: a snarky, hotheaded response that won’t earn me a physical payback. Call me senseless when you graduate college with higher grades than me, dickhead.

I smile to myself and exit the message before I type exactly that. I dial voicemail, purely out of curiosity. I wonder just how different those messages are.

“Ella, baby, where are you?” I listen as his recorded pleas fill my ear. “God, I’m going crazy here. I’m so worried about you. Just . . . call me, please. When you get this, just call me and tell me you’re okay. I love you, okay? I love you so much.”

I hang up, a sick feeling churning my stomach. I don’t know how he can go from abusive to darling in less time than it takes me to pee in the morning. Either way, it’s scary.

My phone rings, and yet again his name fills my screen. I stare at it until the call switches to voicemail and get out of the car. Crossing the busy street to the side of the hotel, I run down the tiny road coming off it. A car engine rumbles in front of me, so I dart to the side and run between some trees.

I spent enough time gazing at the satellite image of this place on Google Maps in a dreamlike haze. Now it’s time for my final act of freedom.

Coming out on the other side of the trees, I jog down to the walkway that reaches out. Boats bob on the surface of the water, docked and waiting for their owners. Given that the sun is already high in the sky, they probably won’t be docked for much longer.

I lean against the railing and look down at the water beneath me. It looks cold, dangerous, getting gradually deeper as you reach the middle of the river that leads into the ocean.

A smile tugs at my lips. I could walk farther up, but I won’t. I’ll just stay here.

I bring my arm back and throw.

Hard.

My phone sails through the air, my eyes following it until it finally falls, entering the water with a dull splash. As it sinks, my heart flies.

One of my father’s first moves will be to track my phone and credit cards. Even my debit card. I’m not naive or stupid. I stopped at an ATM in Brooklyn and withdrew every last dollar from my bank account, then cut up all of my cards. I threw the shattered plastic pieces into the nearest trash can.

Now, with a couple thousand dollars tucked into my suitcase and my phone languishing at the bottom of the river, I do declare that I win round one of the runaway-bride saga.

I turn and run back up the dirt road to the hotel. After grabbing my purse and suitcase from my car and locking it, I head inside toward reception. The white marble floors and elegant decor isn’t new to me. I stayed here last summer with Matthew when his aunt got married nearby, and I won’t deny that I shivered when I was told to come here.

I approach reception and wait for the woman in front of me to finish on the phone. It takes her a few minutes, but when she’s done, she shoots me a dazzling smile.

“Good morning and welcome to Viscount Hotel. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. How can I help you today, ma’am?”

“Hi.” I rest my hand on the counter. “I’m supposed to meet a Sofie Callahan at reception?”

“Is it Ella Dawson?” she asks, flipping through a notepad.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Two seconds, please.” She picks up the phone and presses a number. “Hello . . . yes, this is reception. Ella Dawson is here for Sofie. . . . Perfect. Thank you.” She sets it back down and smiles at me again. “She’ll be down in a moment. Please take a seat.”

“Thank you.” I offer my own smile and wheel my suitcase over to the seating area.

I sink back into one of the plush black chairs and clasp my hands in my lap. God, what am I doing? I must be insane—­driving through the night to go on tour with a rock band? Was I hit over the head with a brick or something?

This is truly crazy. I don’t know the first thing about managing a band, much less four twentysomething guys, and I sure as hell am not used to living on a bus and out of hotels. And if Matthew finds out? I’m done for. I’m so, so done.

I should probably run out of that door right now before Sofie gets down here. I should probably run and make up some crazy lie about needing to drive to get something for the wedding and leaving my phone at home.

Only . . . I can’t. I made my bed the second I drove away from the Hamptons, and now I have to lie in it. No matter how uncomfortable the mattress.

“Hi! Are you Ella?”

I look up at a blond-haired girl holding a toddler on her hip. From TMZ, I recognize the little girl instantly as Conner Burke’s daughter and the woman holding her as her mom.

“Yeah. Hi.” I stand awkwardly.

“Hi! I’m Sofie.” Sofie grins and puts the little girl down. “Mila, stay here, okay?”

“’Kay.” Mila follows it up by tottering across the lobby with a dolly trailing behind her.

Sofie sighs. “Ajax, can you get her?”

“From security to babysittin’,” a tall, muscular man with cropped hair sighs. “Mila!”

Tiny giggles fill the air.

My lips twitch as I watch him stride after her and swoop her up onto his shoulder. Sofie laughs and turns back to me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “The guys are practicing, so I couldn’t leave her upstairs.”

“Oh, it’s okay. She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks flush. “So.” She sits down, and I do the same. “Did you get my email?”

“The one with a list of job requirements?” At her nod, I go on. “Yes. And it’s fine. Really. It can’t be that hard.”

“It’s not the job that’s hard. It’s the people you work for.” She laughs. “But don’t worry. I’ll help you out for the first couple weeks, until you get to know their routine—if Tate doesn’t switch stuff up again.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

“Please, let me help you.” She cups her cheeks with her hands and leans forward. “I have been surrounded by pure testosterone for two weeks. The only female interaction has been courtesy of a two-year-old who demands Peppa Pig and Frozen ten times a day. I am so ready for some company.”

I laugh. “Well, I don’t imagine company would be a terrible thing to have.”

“Great!” She sits up and claps her hands once. “Let me grab your room key, then we’ll go up. You look like you need some rest.”

I smile apologetically. “I drove through the night. I’m sorry. I probably won’t be much help today.”

Sofie stops at the reception desk and turns to me. She studies me slowly, her blue eyes regarding me with interest. Just when she opens her mouth to say something, the receptionist asks how she can help.

“Key for room 435, please.” She takes her eyes off me only when the key card is placed in her hand. “Thank you. Ajax?” She looks over her shoulder, but when I look, too, the security guy and Mila are nowhere to be seen.

“Where did they go?”

Sofie waves her hand dismissively. “To the playground out back. I’ll see ’em in an hour. Come on.”

I follow her into the elevator and she presses the button for the fourth floor. We whizz up in seconds, leaving me with a little vertigo, and exit.

“So you’re from New York?” Sofie asks, guiding me down a hallway.

“Yeah. I’ve lived there my whole life except for college.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to go in a few weeks. Will you see your family when we go back?”

I swallow. “Um, I’m not sure. They might be on vacation.”

“Oh.” She slides the card into the slot for room 435 and the door clicks open. “Your room is more of a mini-apartment. There’s a hot plate, a fridge, and there’s a laundry room at the end of the hall. We have the whole floor booked out, and I’m right next door to you, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” She grins widely and hands me the card. “I have your number, so I’ll call you later when we have a dinner reservation and you can meet the guys. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” I say softly, watching her walk out of the room. She pauses by the door and smiles kindly, then shuts it behind her.

I take a deep breath and look around. The suite is spacious. A corner sofa on one side, a small kitchenette on the other, and a door just off of there leads to the bedroom. I dump the suitcase by the door and drop my purse on the kitchen counter.

Fear nothing, right? Yes—fear nothing. Except the four men I have yet to meet and the abundance of tasks I know nothing about. Sofie sent me a list, sure, but what about little things? Do I run for coffee? Water? Sandwiches? Condoms?

Oh my God. I’ve never bought condoms in my life.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay. I can do this. I can absolutely flip everything I’ve ever known upside down and live a completely different life. I can do this.

I wave my hands absentmindedly at my mental tangent and walk into the bedroom. One look at the queen bed and I’m kicking off my shoes and crawling beneath the covers.

A loud knock on my door jolts me from sleep. What the . . . I roll out of bed and stumble through the suite to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Sofie!”

Oh. Crap. I open the door, rubbing my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was sleeping.”

“Oh—shit. I’m sorry.” She covers her mouth with her hand. “I tried to call you but it went straight to voicemail.”

I pause, my knuckle digging into my eye. “Oh. Yeah. Um. I forgot to tell you earlier. I kind of don’t have a phone anymore.”

Sofie raises an eyebrow and walks into the suite. “Okay. What happened to it?”

“I, er . . . I threw it into the river.”

“As in . . . the river in front of the hotel?”

“That would be the one.”

Her lips twitch. “I’m sure there’s a story there somewhere.” A giggle escapes. “But I’m not going to push you. Not right now anyway.” She grins, and it’s so infectious I can’t help but smile back. “I just wanted to tell you we’re having dinner downstairs tonight. In, like, fifteen minutes, actually.”

“Oh, it’s okay. If you could give me a few minutes, I can freshen up now.”

“Great!” She sighs happily. “Conner has Mila and it’s the happiest I’ve seen her all day.” She drops onto the sofa, locates the remote, and turns on the TV.

I smile and grab hold of my suitcase. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time. They won’t do anythin’ without us if they know what’s good for ’em.” She winks over her shoulder.

I wheel the suitcase into the bedroom and drop it onto its back. I close the door quietly, then rifle through the case for a summer dress and clean underwear. The bathroom is large and glittering white, the brightness almost blinding as I change and freshen up. A touch-up of mascara and I’m ready.

Ready to go and meet the band that three-quarters of America have their panties all bunched up over. My new employers.

I look in the mirror. My dark hair falls softly around my face. My eyes are full of freedom, something that hasn’t been there for two years. I swallow, and my tongue flicks out to wet my lips several times as I leave the bathroom. I hesitate by the bedroom door—I’m still insane. Still completely, utterly, certifiably insane.

“Hey, Ella? Are you ready? Apparently my daughter is screaming the place down for her pizza.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Just . . . I don’t know.” I shrug a shoulder and follow Sofie into the elevator.

She glances at me knowingly. “Scared?”

“Uh, not in the way you’d think.” I smile reluctantly. Because I’m not.

I’m not afraid to meet America’s hottest crush. I’m afraid to be in a room full of several men I’ve never met in my life, which is ridiculous, because I’m not in danger here. I’m safe, hidden away, in a world entirely different from my own.

But my body wants me to look over my shoulder, just in case.

“They’re not bad. Well, most of the time. I promise. Come on.” She takes my hand with a beaming grin and opens the door to the private dining room. Noise fills it—laughter, toddler giggles, loud, booming male voices—but they all silence when Sofie yells, “Hey! Hey!”

Four sets of eyes land on us.

“Now y’all better be nice or I’m gonna kick some butt,” she says firmly, tugging me beside her. “This is Ella. She’s your new PA.”

Conner Burke is the first to stand and offer me his hand. I shake it, then he tugs me in for a hug.

“It’s great to meet you, Ella. If we get too demandin’, just tell us where to go.”

“Someone’s suckin’ up because he wants to get laid tonight.” There’s a chuckle from the corner, then movement. Kye Burke approaches me with a cocky grin, and before he can say a word, Sofie slaps his arm.

“Try it. I dare you.”

Her tone stops him dead, because he holds his hands up and shrugs. “I wasn’t tryin’ anything, Sof. I was coming over to be nice.” He shoots me a wink. “Kye.”

“Hi,” I say quietly.

“Ignore him.” Aidan Burke, Kye’s twin, stands in front of me. “He thinks he’s the big man, but he’s still stuck in puberty.”

“Y’all are gonna get my shoe up your butts in a minute. Stop trying to hit on her. She works for you,” Sofie snaps. “Ads, sit down before I make you.”

“Sof, you’re five foot nothin’.”

“I’ll be five feet of terrifying if you don’t start actin’ like a gentleman. All of you.” She sweeps her eyes over the three single Burke brothers. “Tate? Your manners get lost inside your beer bottle?”

Aidan sniggers and sits back down.

“Tay! Be nice!” Mila calls from the corner, smacking tiny hands against the high chair tray. “You nice!”

I hide my laughter behind my hand. Conner catches my eye and winks at me.

“Well?”

“Fine.” A beer bottle hits the table, and my eyes fall in the direction of the sound.

And, oh.

Okay.

Turquoise eyes the color of the ocean at the height of summer stare back at me with a brooding glint. His dark hair is spiked to the side, rough stubble lines his jaw, and his lips curve up to one side when his eyes connect with mine. My gaze drops to his body, because I can’t help but look at the tattoos that cover his arms, the full sleeves stopping in perfectly straight lines at his wrist. I can’t make any of the designs out, except for a few music notes on the inside of his left forearm. And, oh man, he has nice arms. And shoulders. And stomach. But it doesn’t matter.

Because Tate Burke is walking right up to me.

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Dirty Past 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 22 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It would have been a much better read if there were about five hundred fewer "ain'ts" I had to cringe through. I couldn't get past how it seemed to be every other word and I am no grammar nazi here. And I'm sorry, she's not even close to a Harvard graduate. State University?....maybe, but come on now....just because you can write that she was doesn't make it so. And her free law advice was brought to you by Dr. Google. I'm forcing myself to finish this book because I hate wasting money, but honestly I'd rather move on.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I am familar with spouseal abuse...my wife suffered thru 10yrs before we meet..i helped her get ride of the jerk and married her 43 years ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
So, I almost didn’t continue with the series because I read some reviews complaining about the book and the use of the word ain’t, which is so not an issue with the story. Just have to get this off my chest. To complain that the word ain’t is used too often is to complain that the characters are too southern. Why not complain about the use of the word y’all? Ain’t is actually in the dictionary, and although slang, it is still a recognized word. I had a 6th grade teacher that would disagree and also hated the word, but that was back in the 80s before ain’t was in the dictionary. I digress. Actually no, I’ll continue, why not. I would not complain that Diana Gabaldon used ken in place of know, that is just how the Scottish say it. Or that L.A Casey uses me in place of my, that is how the Irish speak. Basically, my point is, I like when dialogue can be written in a prose that defines the character and their background. It ain’t all that bad. I also read some complaints about the ending, and I don’t want to spoiler too much, I will just say, it is somewhat bittersweet, a better vengeance on the abusive jerk would have been nice, but eh, does not really ruin the story. My biggest grievance with the story is pretty silly. It is that Tate plays the bass guitar, which I would think should be referred to as his bass, not his guitar. And so often he is said to pick up his guitar and play, but does he play both the 4 string and the 6 string, or is he playing his bass? A stupid complaint, but to my mind, it is relevant.
csingh More than 1 year ago
I was hoping to like and enjoy reading Dirty Past.  I wasn't expecting to be so impressed with the story and characters. There were still parts I think could've been handled better, but for the most part the book was perfect. Ella and Tate come from different backgrounds, but there's something in Ella that pulls Tate to her.  Ella will admit to herself about finding Tate attractive, but there's something in him that reminds her too much of the situation she's just left behind, so she's weary of him.  I loved seeing big bad Tate, soothe Ella and console her when she needed it.  While Tate was instantly attracted to Ella I like how she took her time in letting him in and trusting him.  I laughed when every time they'd get a chance to be alone, it was interrupted them, leaving Tate frustrated. I really liked how Emma Hart handled the issues Ella faced for the most part.  She really nailed the fear and vulnerability a person who has escaped from that situation feels. While I love that Ella got her groove back and some semblance of justice, I do wish those who hurt her had gotten what was their due. Especially her family.  I can't begin to tell you how pissed off at them I was for the things they said and did. I'm glad she had the Dirty B family to support her and give her what she needed to be strong and move on. The story is full of light moments, dark moments, and everything in between.  I read this book in what seems like no time at all and couldn't put it down.  Having met Mila, Sofie, and Conner, for the first time, I can see I'm going to have to read Dirty Secret, their story.  This isn't because I was lost, but because my curiosity was aroused while reading this story. I also can't wait to read which brother/twin falls in love next!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
A beautiful story that made me laugh out loud. you won't regret it if you love amazing character relationships and alpha males!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed it. Tame but enjoyable.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The series draws you in from the first page! Amazing story
HollyJenae More than 1 year ago
232 pages. Can be read as a stand-alone. Steamy sex occasionally. Not worth $4.99. I didn't actually like any of the characters and the love btwn Tate and Ella was not realistic, interesting, or romantic. I grew up in the south and the only people who use the word darlin' at all anymore are elderly people and certainly not in every damn sentence. I didn't understand why her short, two-syllable name (Ella) was something that needed to be shortened but Tate insisted. I purposefully started with this book and not the first so that I didn't have to read a story with a kid involved and that exact kid is all through this book. The kid also has an incredibly unrealistic personality. I don't like the main characters and I don't like the side characters. Most annoying of all would be the ridiculous cursing. I love cursing (or as I like to call them - sentence enhancers) as much as the next person but I don't think the author actually knows how to curse. She attempted to jam as many curse words into each sentence as possible whether they fit, flow, work, or not. So awkward. But the most annoying part..... ***SPOILER ALERT*** The abusive ex doesn't get in trouble for anything he's done to her and she lets him off scott free to go do it to someone else. I'm not blaming the victim for what happened to her but she just doesn't want to take the time to drag her ex through the legal system once she's free..... and save the next unsuspecting woman. Total BS. Crap book.
Lisa-Lou More than 1 year ago
Dirty Past by Emma Hart is the second book in her Burke Brothers series. I was blown away by book one - it was the first book I read by Emma Hart and made her an auto-read author for me right away. Ella and Tate's story in this book was no less impactful. Ella has left an abusive past behind her and has stepped back out into the world and directly into a job as a PA for a boy-band. Tate and Ella butt heads almost immediately and while she is still coming to terms with a life that is NOT filled with abuse, Tate is coming to terms with the fact that his bad boy reputation may just be getting shelved for good. I absolutely LOVED this story.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Of all the brothers, I wouldn't have thought Tate would be next! Well written plot, love story & when they finally get to the steam...whew!! Will have to patiently wait for #3 now....sigh....
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Very good read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Consider this series well written and great reads.
Christine Burns More than 1 year ago
This author's way of writting was refreshing. I loved everything about this book!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Dont wasge your money.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
So happy with this series! Thought Tate was an ass in the last book but he has totally redeemed himself! Love when the bad boys have such a soft side to them.
ValleyoftheBookDoll More than 1 year ago
Ella Dawson has lived a glamorous lifestyle. A life many would envy based on what they view. What outsiders don’t get to see is what really goes on behind the closed doors of the Manhattan high-rise and Hampton summer home. For two years, Ella has served as her fiancé’s personal punching bag. Needing to finally be rid of the toxic man and abusive world, she escapes to become the personal assistant to Dirty B’s flirty bassist. Tate Burke is well-known for his womanizing ways. He sings and the females flock toward him and fall at his feet. It’s what he’s used to and what he knows. But that custom comes to a screeching halt when his newest PA would rather yell his name in anger than in pleasure. His sassy PA is a force to be reckoned with and he’s eager to take that challenge if it means being able to stare at her all day. What started off as an urge to challenge and rile her up begins to change into a need much stronger and deeper than anything he’s ever felt before. When Ella’s dangerous past comes for her, he realizes it’s his mission to protect and keep her safe in every way possible. Ella’s ex won’t stop until he has what he thinks is his, and Tate won’t hesitate in setting him straight. ****** The first few encounters between Ella and Tate, he came on a bit too strong for my liking and I was nervous to see how Ella would react. I think the response he had towards Ella’s cheeky attitude caused him to one-up his usual behavior and take maybe a tad too far. To a female with Ella’s past, he seemed a bit rough and frightening, so her reactions made sense and I found myself cringing at his movements. Though he scared her beyond belief, there was a feeling deep inside her that knew he wasn’t anything like her ex. I loved the way she handled herself in situations like that, where he brought out that learned fear. She could’ve easily broken down, but instead she stilled herself and allowed the moment to breeze over most of the time. The character development was above par throughout the book. It was lovely to see the transition Tate made from manwh**e to protective and love-crazed. While Ella was strong in the beginning—leaving a destructive relationship is something not many women can find the strength to do and she managed to do so—she truly broke out of her shell toward the end and found who she was without any of her negative influences. It was clear how much lighter and brighter she was once everything was put to rest. Ella and Tate’s relationship seemed so natural and effortless despite the bumpy introduction. Jumping from one relationship to another so quickly will usually land an eye roll from me, but in this case, it was just so right. As the book continued it became clear to me that Ella and Tate, as cheesy as it sounds, completed each other. Their relationship was something I never once questioned at any point in the story. The banter and sexual tension went through the roof in this book! That tension that Ella and Tate held in the beginning really sparked up the story and drove the rest of it into gear. There was a few sex scenes that were told in detail, but in a tasteful manner. Then there were others that weren’t explicitly detailed and simply eluded to the next step. After all, some moments are better left to the imagination. Mixed in among the sexy and emotional, were also moments of humor that really lightened the darker moments the story had to offer. Like usual, Emma Hart gave life to the secondary characters in a way that added to the story, but never overshadowed the main characters. It was great to see that family dynamic that Ella had never been able to witness or be a part of in her life. Emma did an amazing job with such a painfully difficult topic. Dirty Past was a beautiful telling of finding the light in the darkest of places and strength in the weakest of moments. The story itself had such great development and had a mixing of emotions to keep you engaged and on your toes. Highly recommend you pick up Dirty Past and ready yourself for an emotional journey.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
He gets out of his car and staggers falling to the ground wincing trying to get his past out of his head
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The whole book was full of (ain't this and ain't that repeatedly...non stop) that was so annoying and such a frustrating thing to have to read through!! Who ever the hell proof read this did a crappy job. Forced myself to finish book but let me tell you that by the end I wanted to smack the stupid illiterate author!! I actually liked the book and thought it was a good story line but the ain'ts killed it for me. That is the only reason I will NOT be purchasing any more of her books. It is my opinion you should be able to enjoy the books you read, it's awsome if the author has the ability to make you get lost inside his or her book with the world it creates or picture it paints; thats how you know it's an awsome book and the author has mad skills. This unfortunately just could not happen for me even though I tried due to how annoying & rediculouse the ain'ts were!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
OMG this was the best book!!! I love tate and ella. In book 1i wasnt sure i would like tate...i fell in love with him...great series. Will be starting the next book now. Love, love, love it and Mila is a star...would have liked to see matthew go to jail that was my only dislike to this book, and her parents to get theirs
TexasAmmethyst More than 1 year ago
Another great book by Emma Hart! I absolutely loved the first book in the Burke Brothers series, and couldn't wait for more! I was not disappointed with Dirty Past and it was well worth the wait! Tate Burke is a dirty-mouthed, alpha-male, rocker with an absolute heart of gold hiding under his gruff exterior. It obviously just took the right woman to find it! Ella is a woman escaping an abusive relationship and hiding from her past working as the personal assistant for the Dirty B's. Her and Tate have a ton of chemistry and she brings out his protective nature. The story is well developed and full of steam, of course!! I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves hot men, smart women, and a happily ever after!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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